Olivia Piotrowski: Late senior passed away this fall, leaving lessons in all of her friends to live a care-free, appreciative lifestyle

When faced with the decision of how to honor her late daughter at graduation, East mother Alison Ball was lost. Cap and gown on an empty chair? Flowers? A speech? A moment of silence? She wasn’t sure — none of it seemed quite right. 

Her daughter, Olivia Piotrowski, was supposed to graduate eight days from now but passed away unexpectedly the morning of Sept. 16. Administration contacted her mother eight months after her passing asking how she wanted to handle what will happen when Olivia’s name is called at graduation — but she didn’t have a simple answer. 

Olivia’s life was anything but silent, so Alison knew watching stands full of people sitting in silence and honoring her would probably make Olivia squirm in her seat. 

To her friends and mother, Olivia was the type of person to always have her car windows down if it was above 60 degrees Fahrenheit, always turn down a serious conversation if she had the choice to laugh instead and carry a never-say-no attitude everywhere she went. She had a hard time letting just anyone see this side of her, but according to East alum and close friend of Olivia’s, Katie Overstreet, it was a treat when she would.

Her fiery ginger hair and the way everything she owned was red were two staple tellings of her boldness when around the people she was comfortable with. A lifelong friend of Olivia’s and senior Jane Thiede says Olivia had courage and style and she wasn’t willing to let anything change that — whether it was a passing comment in the hallway or someone sparking an argument. 

Olivia was the type of person who knew what she wanted. She spent countless hours secretly admiring her red hair in the mirror, ordering her plain McChickens with cheese and honey mustard and heavily layering all her gold jewelry. She laced up her Jordans every day, critiqued her modeling photos for the contract she’d just signed with a California agency, dreamed of her future home of Santa Barbara, California where she’d move to after graduation, idolized Kylie Jenner and adored everything red. 

“She liked what she liked, and you weren’t going to change it,” Jane said. “She was just very Olivia all of the time.” 

Olivia was the type of friend who always bounced off the walls, but she also spread that magnetic energy that made her friends want to bounce off the walls too. When Jane would lie on her bed to laze around and watch a movie, Olivia sat on top of her until she was willing to get up and try something new. Their adventures were as limitless as Olivia. They visited an alpaca farm, drove 30 minutes for edible cookie dough, dressed up in full mix-match for the Justin Bieber “Believe” tour and took too many thrifting trips to count. 

She’d be friends with anyone willing to obsess over her two dogs, Binka and Apple, with her. She’d hang the top half of her body out of friend and senior Haley Smith’s front passenger window so she could feel the wind, blaring “That’s My Girl” by Fifth Harmony. But she wasn’t just the spontaneous friend to cruise around downtown Kansas City with. Her goal was to make her friends feel like time never passed. 

“With friends, a lot of times they’ll fall out and they come and go in seasons, but she was one that you could always count on to be there,” Katie said. “It wasn’t a noticeable thing when you first met her, [but] once you got to know her, you knew that she was always there — always 100% for everyone else.” 

Since her passing, every one of her close friends has dedicated their senior year to live a life full of laughter, taking care of their loved ones and embracing every opportunity — just like Olivia did — in remembrance of her.

For Katie, this meant staying close to Alison to ensure that she was doing as well as she possibly can. Alison says Katie was one of the biggest blessings that were sent her way as a single mother who had just lost her only child. 

Katie went with Alison to get their triple ear piercings together, something Alison and Olivia were going to do together. It wasn’t to replace Olivia. It was to support Alison in fulfilling what she planned to do with Olivia now for Olivia. 

Katie and Olivia also planned on getting tattoos, so Katie did that too, bringing Olivia along in her mind. She landed on a heart. Alison found an old card that Olivia had given her which had a heart on the front, so Katie had it inked onto her ribcage in red just as Olivia drew it. It had to be red. 

Jane and senior Lucy Humphrey also got tattoos to remember Olivia. Lucy’s sits on her wrist reading “Love, Olivia,” copied from another card she signed as a child with her handwriting. Jane’s is also on her wrist with three 3’s stacked on top of each other to symbolize her favorite angel numbers and as a reminder that Olivia is watching over her. 

Together, Olivia’s close friends organized her candle-lit vigil on the football field seven days after her passing, where they shared speeches filled with memories of Olivia. They came together and made a memorial for her using red SOLO cups to spell her name, flowers and photos on East’s fence facing 75th St. 

Their goal with this — and everything they’ve been doing — is to remember Olivia. At East, in the community and in their hearts. 

“The way I’ve been coping with it is that I still tell myself she’s here in one way or another,” Katie said. “I’ve told her mom this, but I feel like [Olivia is] messing with me sometimes.” 

The rest of Olivia’s friends feel the same way. 

Katie still uses the same mascara Olivia got her hooked on, giving an eye roll to the sky when she accidentally sneezes while applying it — Olivia. She giggles driving down Mission Road and passing a bright red G Wagon, her dream car, blaring rap music — Olivia. 

Jane smiles when she passes random trees that remind her of the ones they used to climb — Olivia. Haley takes a sigh of relief when she sees girls’ Instagram photos of them hanging out of a car window in the wind — Olivia. Lucy smirks driving down Main Street, memories of the time they ate sushi before attending homecoming together sophomore year — Olivia. 

Olivia’s former East Educational Mentor, Tammy Fryer, said Olivia was one of the most expressive students she’d ever work with. Deemed by Olivia as her “school mom,” Tammy grew close over the three years they worked together — she was one of the first people Olivia went to for help with her anxiety and school struggles.

Olivia adored and appreciated Tammy to an infinite extent, Alison said. Olivia gave Easter and Christmas presents annually with written cards, candles and gift cards — anything she could find to show love. 

“In class, she was really quiet and seemed very shy but when you got her outside of class,” Tammy said. “She really had a bubbly personality, she really expressed herself very well [and] made her opinions known.”

Olivia’s loved ones have all heartfully mourned their friend throughout the year and encouraged all of East to remember her, and remember that sometimes death is unexpected and no teenager is ever ready for that shock. They want everyone to reach out and value time with loved ones. 

“Just be there [for your friends] because you don’t know who will wake up tomorrow morning,” Katie said. “No teenager should ever die and no parent should ever have to plan a funeral for their child.” 

Alison still doesn’t know exactly what’s best to honor Olivia, but her close friends hope that the Class of 2022 will walk across the stage with thoughts and prayers of her in their minds. They will all be scattered across the field thinking about one thing on graduation day — Olivia. About how she taught Isabella to be open and free and Jane patience and relaxation. How she taught Katie to laugh off any situation, Haley to speak up for what she believes in and Lucy the confidence and sociability that even she herself struggled with. And of course, thinking about her fiery ginger hair walking across that stage and taking her next steps to Santa Barbara. 

But most importantly, Alison and Olivia’s friends want to live life in the same loving, carefree way that Olivia did. They want people to live in remembrance of who she was, hoping seniors remember to appreciate their “lasts” — something that Olivia didn’t have. 

“If you’re thinking about reaching out to any old friend, current friend, whatever, just do it,” Jane said. “Don’t look at someone and think, ‘Oh, I like their shoes,’ actually compliment them on them. Best case scenario, you rekindle an old friendship and you hang out with someone you’ve missed. You don’t lose someone feeling like you should have said something.”